


i have measured out my life with coffee spoons

by couldaughter



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, F/M, You Have Been Warned, this is a coffeeshop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carrot Ironfoundersson runs Ankh Morpork's best and simultaneously least popular Coffee House.  Sergeant Angua tries to hate him, but his hazelnut coffee seems doomed to win her over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i have measured out my life with coffee spoons

**Author's Note:**

> this is a big slice of crazy with a side of delicious espresso. I should note I know nothing about coffee or how coffee shops are usually run, so if anything here seems completely incorrect, please tell me.

If you were to ask any resident of Ankh Morpork what they thought of Ironfoundersson’s Coffee, you would probably get a lot of blank stares and an occasional rude gesture.

Ankh Morpork was that sort of city – the sort where if you stepped in something foul, it was probably a dead chicken.  
But, if you asked anyone who actually cared about coffee beyond the ‘will it get me undrunk faster than that other coffee’ or ‘how black is this coffee I want it blacker than my own soul’, they would give a different reaction, possibly involving drool, and one of those affirmations that really just serves to make everyone present highly uncomfortable.

Carrot Ironfoundersson had not yet followed the example of some of the more discreet chocolate shops* in installing a drain outside his front door. The smell of coffee alone was apparently enough to cause fainting in caffeine addicts.

He found it all a bit perplexing, really. Surely coffee wasn’t that difficult to make well.

He hadn’t come to the city intent on opening the most quietly successful business since Harry King. Actually, he’d wanted to work in one of the big restaurants, being something of a team player but unfortunately no one was interested in his excellent baking of dwarf bread, or his uncanny ability to quote any recipe book including punctuation.

When he’d opened the coffee shop (in a rather shady part of the city, rent being what it was), he had been quite happy with his success. There had been an especial interest from the City Watch, which might have been worrying were it not for the fact that members of the City Watch rarely wanted more than a cup of hot caffeine and possibly a doughnut.

It was also because of a certain customer from said watch. Carrot did not like to think he’d ever judge someone based solely on their coffee preferences*, but the Sergeant was something special.

The first day Carrot had encountered her had started like most other days – a modest number of customers came through the shop*, and just as he was finishing up the morning rush, such as it was, she’d stormed in through the door and slammed a dollar coin on the counter.

“Coffee, black.” She growled, and it sounded more like a wolf howling than any aggravated person should. “I hear you do some fancy coffee, but I’m afraid for now I’ll only be needing that.” She leaned closer, invading what Carrot liked to think of as his personal space*. “Be warned, I can smell what you put in there.”  
Carrot smiled obligingly, used to this sort of behaviour by the Watch*. “Of course, Sergeant. I always try to maintain high standards of customer satisfaction – but if you do happen to have any complaints-”

“Gods, do real people actually talk like this anymore? Get me the damned coffee, _please_.” The Sergeant said this through gritted teeth. Caffeine withdrawal was not a good look on her.

Carrot gave her the coffee. He valued his life more than his own values regarding what was safe for drinking.  
And that, in short, is how two people met. We’ll determine the significance later.

**Author's Note:**

> * boutiques, darling
> 
> * unless, of course, they didn’t like coffee at all. Carrot regarded this particular offence as an exact indication of devilry, or at least that said person had incredibly poor tastebuds
> 
> * here taken to mean ‘about 5 people an hour’. Carrot did not gain customers quickly, but none ever went to another coffee shop voluntarily once they’d visited.
> 
> * a modernist concept he’d first come across in an ill-advised trip to XXXX as a foolhardy teenager
> 
> * the Watch had become a common fixture in his life since the shop had open. Nothing irritated Carrot, but if anything had it’d be the constant presence of the Watch – at least until the shop window had been smashed in and two days the culprit had been strung up by his figgin outside the Watch house. Carrot made sure to make especially nice coffee for the Watch, after that.


End file.
